mistook it for mere elegance.

But you don't try to land your ideas about Keith Jarrett, Leon Russell and Bill Monroe, or progress and justice, on the radio unless the largest promises of rock have shaped your vision. This has been the story so far behind the success of Bruce Hornsby. The saga continues, albeit much more narrowly, with A Night on the Town. Working with producer Don Gehman, Hornsby has made a record that plays against his own strengths: Hornsby is out to prove that he's a rocker.

The album takes three general tacks for its eleven songs. First, Gehman and Hornsby set gospely rock like "Carry the Water" and the title tune to airy but spry drum programs by Phil Shenale. Second, the team underlays folkier, melodically free songs such as "Barren Ground" and "Lost Soul" with more insistent rhythm tracks. Third, Hornsby and Gehman cast entire pieces in molds that go for the disorienting slash of avant-garde jazz rock ("Fire on the Cross"), the old heat of Atlantic soul ("These Arms of Mine") or the conversational pithiness of Tom Petty ("Another Day"). All of this represents a different direction, or at least a new set of emphases. The switch is understandable – strong performers change. The results, however, are erratic.

Still, Hornsby and the Range assert themselves. For every rushed arpeggio, for every overdub that sounds like Hornsby is sampling himself, there's something like the searching bass chords and the narrative authority of "Stander on the Mountain." Even though the pop side of Gehman's rock smarts means that "Fire on the Cross," which should have been a masterpiece, sounds timid and hemmed in, the song keeps its outrage.

But consider: Why did Don Henley ask Bruce Hornsby to collaborate with him on the title song of The End of the Innocence, an album that laments this "graceless age"? A Night on the Town answers that question – because Bruce Hornsby is the sound of grace for millions of radio listeners – though not confidently enough. (RS 582-583)

JAMES HUNTER